


you love her (and she loves you)

by wizoncee



Series: rilaya hunger games au [2]
Category: Girl Meets World
Genre: F/F, Mentions of Death, Nothing explicit, anyway i wrote this in like half an hour and posted it without rereading bc i miss gmw and rilaya, it's all a little vague, mentions of lucas and riley but i dont remember their ship name, since gmw has been cancelled for like three years lmao, super short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-15
Updated: 2019-08-15
Packaged: 2020-09-01 10:35:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20256718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wizoncee/pseuds/wizoncee
Summary: You are sixteen years old when the love of your life volunteers herself for a battle to the death in your place.or the rilaya hunger games au from maya's pov





	you love her (and she loves you)

You are sixteen years old when the love of your life volunteers herself for a battle to the death in your place.

When your name is first called, ringing through the plaza, your heart stops. It’s not like you’d wholeheartedly believed that you would be able to make it through eight years unscathed, but you don’t think you’d ever truly accepted that it could be you. It had always seemed so distant, the people (_children_) sent to their deaths, the blood and gore, the desperation to live. Then your name is called, and time stands still.

Riley volunteers and it feels like time was passing with you stuck in a bubble, watching helplessly as your best friend is escorted to the stage. Her face is blank, and for once you can’t read her. At one point you lock eyes and something flickers in those chestnut eyes you adore, and you don’t even realise you’re crying until the crowd disperses and Mr and Mrs Matthews finds you standing frozen at the spot where she left you.

The story doesn’t start when you’re sixteen and Riley takes your place in the Hunger Games. Nor does it begin when you’re seventeen and she returns, a shell of who she used to be, plagued with nightmares every night, and seeking refuge from her demons in your arms.

The story begins a decade earlier, when you were six and she was five. You will always remember it clearly, the day your life changed, the day you heard a little girl’s singing and decided to follow it to its source. Bright brown eyes and an even brighter smile greeted you, you were smitten from day one.

(What you won’t remember, and never will, is Riley’s parents’ reactions when they first saw you talking to their daughter, leaned up against the outside of their single storey house’s window. You won’t remember Mr Matthews’ immediate wariness, won’t remember him only simmering down when Mrs Matthews points out that you’re Katy’s kid. You won’t remember that the reason why the adults from uptown weren’t bothered by you despite you being a Seam kid, was because they pitied you.)

You are sixteen and a half when you watch the love of your life fall in love with her District partner onscreen. The whole world watches as he explains his admiration for her, they swoon and coo and they become the favoured tributes, the first time anyone from Twelve has been the public’s favourites. The star-crossed lovers. It makes you feel sick to your stomach. He kisses her before they are separated permanently, three arrows to his torso and blood on his lips as his last words beg for her survival.

(You are nineteen when this comes back to haunt you. She whispers his name in her sleep and unlike the other ghosts that refuse to leave her, she welcomes his with open arms. It fills you with jealousy, the bond that she shares (shared) with him, that it stays strong long after his death. She calls you ridiculous, tells you that what they had gone through was nothing to be envied, tells you that she had gone through hell just to save you and now you have the gall to complain? It shuts you up, even though you hated that she’d done it, hated that she’d saved you. Perhaps you would have died in the Arena, but it would’ve been easier than her living the life she does now.)

You are eight years old when she gifts you a flower she bought from the florist, smiling brightly. You remember being confused, and wondering why on earth she would waste money on a _flower_. Looking back, you understand that she was a child, and raised in the town, and therefore she didn’t understand that money was precious, that you didn’t have any, and that she couldn’t fathom why you urged her to trade that flower for food, because she didn’t lack any growing up. When the two of you are fifteen, you’re lying under the stars, your head on her arm, when she brings it up.

“I was a little hurt,” she mentions, laughing lightly, and you turn to face her fully. It annoyed you, at that moment, the realisation of how different your worlds are. You don’t remember what you said but you remember the look on her face when you said it. She’d pulled her arm back, rolling her body from you, and bid goodbye hurriedly, hurt and frustration seeping into her tone.

Your annoyance was justified. The money from that flower could have afforded you and your mother four days worth of food. It didn’t mean she deserved to experience the brunt of your anger, but whatever.

You’re seventeen years old when Riley comes back. She has a slight limp, and a scar stretching from her shoulders to her hip, but she’s still Riley. You’re waiting at the train station the day she arrives and she jumps into your arms the second she sees you. You love her. She pulls back from the embrace and just stares at you, chestnut eyes shining. There’s relief in those eyes you love so much, and your heart aches at the implication of it.

You’re sixteen and a half when you watch Riley pierce a sword through a boy’s heart, limping as she swings and blood pouring down her own torso. She cries when the horn rings and music is played and she’s announced the winner. She doesn’t let go of the sword, or the corpse attached to it, then the screen goes black.

**Author's Note:**

> hmu @wizoncee on twitter for idk anything i got a little sad while writing this tbh so i cant think of a good note anyway maybe ill update this in another 2 years who knows anyway i miss gmw


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